Nearly six decades ago, the infamous story of murderer, grave-robber and all-around monster Ed Gein became the inspiration for Alfred Hitchcock's iconic thriller "Psycho," regarded by many as one of the greatest films ever made.

Gein earned his moniker after having his grisly crimes discovered in the small central Wisconsin town of Plainfield in 1957. Found responsible for two murders and the hoarding of various body parts dug up from graves, it's no secret that Gein's story helped mold Norman Bates, the psychotic killer actor Anthony Perkins brought to life in such creepy and memorable fashion.

But what was the connection between the man at the heart of the heinous crimes that shocked Wisconsin and Hollywood's master filmmaker all those years ago? That would be Weyauwega writer Robert Bloch, who 60 years ago published the novel that would forever change horror.

"'Psycho' all came from Robert Bloch's book," Hitchcock said in the 1971 book "The Celluloid Muse."

Ed Gein.(Photo: Milwaukee Journal Sentinel archives)

The Hollywood heavyweight didn't shy away from giving credit where it's due. Even with such shout-outs, though, it's not entirely common knowledge among Wisconsinites that the "Psycho" author was, at least for a time, one of our own.

Though born in Illinois, Bloch moved to Milwaukee as a child and attended Lincoln High School. The H.P. Lovecraft superfan began his writing career in his late teens and by the time of his death he'd published upwards of 400 stories, more than 20 novels and dozens of movie and television scripts.

His most famous work, though, came during the span of about six years he lived with his family in Weyauwega, a small Wisconsin city about 30 miles northwest of Appleton. It was the novel "Psycho" that introduced the world to Norman Bates, his beloved Mother and the previously unseen dangers of bathing in roadside hotels.

The ensuing film adaptation of "Psycho" is a piece of pop culture that for many needs no introduction. Released in 1960, it was the great Alfred Hitchcock's 47th film. It was a jaw-dropper — not just because of its twists and turns, but because of its intensity despite a modest budget and the absence of major stars. It was a left turn for the director coming off now-classics "Vertigo" and "North by Northwest."

Every villain has an origin story

Living only about a 35-minute drive from Plainfield, the already-accomplished Bloch read about the discoveries at the Gein family farm when it hit the papers in 1957. Two years later, the world was introduced to Norman Bates.

"I based my story on the situation rather than on any person, living or dead, involved in the Gein affair," Bloch wrote in his 1993 memoir "Once Around the Bloch: An Unauthorized Autobiography." "I knew very little of the details concerning that case and virtually nothing about Gein himself at the time. It was only some years later, when doing my essay on Gein for 'The Quality of Murder,' that I discovered how closely the imaginary character I'd created resembled the real Ed Gein both in overt act and apparent motivation."

Robert Bloch(Photo: Associated Press)

The "situation," as Bloch put it, was Gein being able to carry out his grave-robbing and possibly killings for weeks, months and maybe years without anybody taking notice. Bloch thought about how this could carry on and came up with a character that, like Gein, lived on the fringes of society, mostly kept to himself, but in random encounters around his small town seemed normal enough not to raise suspicion. In essence, Gein led a dual life, much like Norman Bates.

That really was about all that linked the two. It wasn't until later Bloch would learn of the other similarities. For instance, Gein is believed to have been greatly impacted by his mother's death and, long after, kept her bedroom in pristine condition. There also were questions related to cross-dressing. (Among the disturbing discoveries in Gein's grimy lair was a woman's torso, breasts and all, made into a corset-like garment. It's assumed he wore it.)

Gein, later dubbed "The Butcher of Plainfield," confessed to two killings (though may have been responsible for more) and to looting the graves of at least a dozen other women. After his arrest, he spent the rest of his life in two Wisconsin psychiatric institutions and died in 1984.

That story, as bizarre as it still seems, wound up being an inspiration beyond "Psycho." Other entries in the horror cannon, including 1974's "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre" and 1991's "The Silence of the Lambs" (based on the Thomas Harris novel), point back to Plainfield, each with their own take on the skin-wearing serial killer residing in a house of horrors.

Bloch's novel was published in 1959, a few months shy of the second anniversary of the grisly discoveries on the Gein property.

From Weyauwega to Hollywood

Upon its release, the 41-year-old's novel received mostly positive reviews and the first printing sold well. He soon received an offer from an unnamed party to buy the rights for a film, which he accepted. The bid was for $9,500, of which Bloch received about $6,250.

It wasn't until later he learned it was Hitchcock who was responsible. The director kept details of his latest project under wraps, not wanting his fans to spoil its plot details by first reading the book.

Janet Leigh screams in an iconic scene from Alfred Hitchcock's classic "Psycho." The book was based on the novel of the same name by Wisconsin author Robert Bloch.(Photo: Paramount Pictures)

"The working-stiffs milieu, two shocking murders, a twist finale peppered with transvestism, incest, and necrophilia — these were catnip to a man who fancied himself a connoisseur of abnormal psychology," wrote author Stephen Rebello in "Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho."

It's one of the starting points for the slasher genre. "It was the most shocking film its original audience members had ever seen," the great Roger Ebert wrote in 1998. He called Perkins' performance "landmark" and the infamous Janet Leigh shower scene "the most effective slashing in movie history."

"What makes 'Psycho' immortal, when so many films are already half-forgotten as we leave the theater," he continued, "is that it connects directly with our fears: Our fears that we might impulsively commit a crime, our fears of the police, our fears of becoming the victim of a madman, and of course our fears of disappointing our mothers."

On top of all that, it had the first-ever toilet flush in a major motion picture. Groundbreaking, indeed.

The film opened in the summer of 1960, the latest thriller from the 60-year-old filmmaker who'd been a household name for decades. According to Rebello's book, he earned about $250,000 per picture, plus a cut of the gross.

"Psycho" was done in black and white because, among other reasons, Hitchcock believed audiences wouldn't want to see so much blood in color. It seems a bit cute now, considering the buckets of blood splashing on big screens these last 40 years or so.

The Bates character underwent some changes before making it to the big screen. In Bloch's book, the evil-doing mama's boy is described as "plump," with "thinning sandy hair." He's also a heavy drinker who blacks out just before visitors to the Bates Hotel turn up dead.

Yet the other key character traits were there from the beginning. You know, like hacking up strangers and getting in arguments with the exhumed corpse of his mother.

Not long after "Psycho," Bloch and his family left the town of about 1,200 people for sunny California — lured away by the bright lights of Hollywood. They'd moved to Weyauwega in the first place back in 1953 because his wife, Marion, suffered from tuberculosis. It was her hometown and where her parents and sister lived. (She ended up OK and the two later divorced in the 1960s.)

As for Bloch, he continued to write, including "Psycho" sequels in 1982 and 1990. He wrote for movies and TV, including the original "Star Trek." He died at 76 in 1994 and — rightly so — his creation of "Psycho" was mentioned in the first line of his Associated Press obituary.

Norman Bates has lived on in various forms. In 1998, Vince Vaughn would star in a much-maligned "Psycho" remake by director Gus Van Sant. It was at times a shot-for-shot redo and, by most accounts, was a disaster.

More recently, Bloch's characters returned for the A&E series "Bates Motel." The prequel, with Mother alive and well (played by Oscar nominee Vera Farmiga) and a young Norman operating the family business, ran for five seasons and closed in 2017.

Countless characters, mostly villains and mostly as evil as they come, have come from parts of Bloch's characters and, in turn, parts of Ed Gein.

It's been 60 years but — like Ebert said years ago of Hitchcock's film — "Psycho" has proven immortal.

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This photograph of Ed Gein ran in The Post-Crescent shortly after his arrest in 1957.(Photo: USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

Ed Gein is shown at the time of his arrest in 1957, after murdering a woman at the local hardware store in Plainfield, Wis., and taking her body home to hang in his shed.(Photo: AP Photo/Wisconsin State Journal, File)

A Waushara county sheriff's deputy led Ed Gein from the courthouse in Wautoma after he was found not guilty by reason of insanity in the 1957 slaying of a Plainfield widow and recommitted to the central state hospital.(Photo: Milwaukee Journal Sentinel archives)

Ed Gein was escorted by Waushara County Sheriff Virgil Batterman (right) as he arrived for a sanity hearing in Wautoma in 1974." He was in court to try to be released after 17 years at Central State mental hospital.(Photo: Milwaukee Journal Sentinel archives)

Ed Gein in court. Known as the "butcher of Plainfield" was in a Wautoma court room for a sanity hearing in 1974. He was asking to be released after 17 years at Central State mental hospital.(Photo: Milwaukee Journal Sentinel archives)

Following the bloodlines

A few things you might not know about "Psycho" and its more contemporary connections.

► One of the Norman Bates lines that has lived on from the film, "We all go a little mad sometimes," wasn't a direct quote from the book. Bloch's line was a little less concise: "I think perhaps all of us go a little crazy at times." It's the film version, delivered by Anthony Perkins, that Skeet Ulrich's Billy Loomis recites in the climactic scene of "Scream" 36 years later.

► That name, Loomis, also traces back to Bloch's novel. Sam Loomis is the character Mary Crane hopes to run away with and who eventually takes down Norman Bates. The name was also used years later in John Carpenter's "Halloween." Donald Pleasence played Dr. Sam Loomis, the man trying to track down Michael Myers, in the 1978 slasher and some of the sequels that followed. As you can see, those working in horror love to give nods to their influences.

► In the book, the character later played by Janet Leigh was named Mary Crane. Hitchcock changed it to Marion after finding a Mary Crane in a Phoenix phone book. (That's where the film was set.) By coincidence, Marion also was the name of Robert Bloch's wife.

► And speaking of Michael Myers, here's another connection younger readers might not be privy to: Janet Leigh, the actress famously attacked in the iconic shower scene in "Psycho," is the mother of Jamie Lee Curtis. (Tony Curtis, another big-name actor in the 1950s and '60s, is her father.) Those bloodlines helped get then-unknown Jamie Lee her first film role as Laurie Strode in the notoriously low-budget "Halloween."

► Horror movie fans are likely well-acquainted with the concept of characters who dabble in pre-marital sex, drugs or other rule-breaking behavior winding up as the first to die. It became a trope, especially in a run of slasher films released in the 1980s. The beginning of that has been traced back to "Psycho." Marion Crane, who dies in the famous shower scene, was on the run after stealing $40,000. She'd also been sleeping with the married Sam Loomis.